


Stained

by macavitykitsune



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Wave-related madness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:20:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2085327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macavitykitsune/pseuds/macavitykitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As they approach Houtou and the Wave grows ever stronger, Hakkai and Goku begin to fall under its spell, and a whole new panorama of options suddenly become accessible to that level of desperation. 898, but not in a shippy fashion.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to Amael for the poem at the beginning. Written well before Blast's serialisation, and consequently ignores post-Reload canon.

_Just you and I alone in the darkness,_   
_Completing circle after circle;_   
_Baring the one thing that only we share-_   
_The savage wonder of those inside._   
  
_Your face in moonlight is haunting;_   
_Your skin, a taste of sin unrepentant._   
_Careful now with sharpened flesh-_   
_My ghosts are hungry tonight._

 

 

The Wave curled through the darkest depths of their minds and coiled there, waiting. Neither of them spoke of it, or even thought about it. It was there, as solid a fact as the sun rising, and resolutely left to silence. To acknowledge it would be to begin to give in to its insidious influence, to open the door to every nightmare that haunted their sleep, blond hair matted with blood and wide, trusting crimson eyes blank and lifeless, hands soaked in blood and hearts drowned in rage. To remember the beauty of murder, the sheer bliss of dancing through enemies and leaving death behind like the glowing afterimages of fireworks in the night; of slaughter and blood and how their prey looked as if they were - not living, but corpses to be. As if they had been born for the purpose of dying under clawsteethbladesvines, to scream and writhe and bleed and fall.

They never mentioned it, but they slowly became partners in a game of silent evasion, of keeping the others safe from them without making it obvious, of keeping their own needs at bay without destroying themselves in the process. They were only a couple of weeks from Houtou now, close, close, so close, and Sanzo's theory that those in the immediate vicinity of the source of the Wave were immune seemed to be proving true - there was no other way to explain the fact that Kougaiji and his followers were still sane. There was so little time before they were safe - but here, it whispered all the more strongly to them, clawing at their minds with thin tendrils of insanity, urgently, as if it could feel them so close to slipping its grasp. It was almost sentient, almost conscious, almost deliberate in the way it chiseled deliberately at what was left of their souls, and it needed no rest and withstood all attacks.

They fought it how they could. Hakkai had almost stopped ordering vegetables for Goku and himself, although he still ate some every meal for the sake of nutrition, not being blessed with Goku's constitution. It wasn't that he craved meat itself (not when it wasn't sweet and filled with human passion, or spiritual power, and oh how he ached to taste that power, just a little, how easy it would be to lean across the front of Jeep and run his tongue down that pale neck, just a taste, he was sure he could restrain himself from biting, no, he'd never bite, not even a little, even knowing Sanzo's strength, but surely he wouldn't grudge a taste, just a drop of blood? not that Hakkai would, of course), but the nearly-raw, bloody meat he and Goku ordered for themselves satiated some part of the need, and it was easy to pretend, really. They never spoke of it, but he couldn't help but wonder if the idea of.... Sanzo.... nauseated Goku as much as thinking of attacking Gojyo nauseated him. But he was lucky, really, and he thanked crimson hair and crimson eyes every morning for their curse and their blessing and the immunity it gave Gojyo.

Goku had begun taking the lion's share of the kills in the attacks that were almost continuous now, even though the youkai who assaulted them were more and more powerful the closer they came to their goal; he fought with grim intensity, his youthful battle-lust sharpened by an ugly edge of fury, and if Sanzo and Gojyo noticed that these days he was as likely as not to send Nyoibou back and fight with his bare hands, they said nothing about it. Goku was strong, infinitely stronger than he had been at the beginning of the journey, and Hakkai knew that part of it was tainted now, unnatural, he could see his aura spilling over even when he was at rest, darkened at the edges like paper just beginning to burn.

They didn't speak of the energy that was beginning to race through them either, the unnatural power that crackled through their hands and minds like subtle electricity which had Hakkai prowling hotel corridors at night as insomnia claimed him again and Goku driving them all to distraction with his fidgeting in Jeep. They counted the days to Houtou, and Hakkai's foot pressed just that much harder on the accelerator even as he murmured apologies to Hakuryuu. The dragon strained as much as he could to drive faster, alive to the changes in his owner, and when he curled around Hakkai in the evenings, chirping tiredly into his ear, there was desperation in how he nuzzled up to his neck and inhaled his scent.

They never spoke of any of it. There was simply no point.

 

They were still nine days from Houtou when Goku asked to spar with Hakkai for the first time. He blurted it out at dinnertime while they crouched over a small fire in the narrow mountain passes they were navigating - the last human settlement they'd seen was over two months away now, and they were down to canned vegetables and any meat they could catch.

Hakkai stopped ladling hot soup into his bowl, frozen almost comically with surprise. 'What?'

'Spar with me,' Goku said again, and there was something else under the simple request; Goku almost never sparred with anyone except Gojyo. He only chose to spar with Hakkai when he wanted unarmed combat, and that was rare.

'All right,' Hakkai said quietly, glancing at Sanzo to see if he knew anything.

Sanzo, across the fire, deliberately unfolded his paper and began to read. 'Whatever,' he said flatly. 'Just don't wander off and break your fool neck on thin ice.'

'Okay,' Goku said, but the cheerfulness with which he would have greeted such readily granted permission from Sanzo three months ago was almost absent from his voice. 'I won't stay up too late, I promise.'

He was almost vibrating with tension at Hakkai's side as they walked a little way from their camp, his shoulders stiff and hunched. Hakkai didn't say anything. Unless Goku asked, it was none of his business. That the battlelust was strong enough to sustain itself past the two attacks they'd weathered today was troubling, but there was no point bringing that up either.

He sprang at Hakkai almost before he was ready, a wild and unfocused attack that was completely unlike him. He wasn't using his full strength - limited or unlimited, Goku was infinitely more powerful than he was - but there was something off in him today, some lack that allowed Hakkai to spar with him for once instead of merely struggling to hold him off, and it unsettled him. When had Goku become this vulnerable? he wondered tiredly as he blocked a roundhouse that would normally have taken his head off. He could stand the darkness creeping into his own soul - he was no stranger to darkness - but to see Goku fighting off the same thing made him want to scream. He shouldn't have to be like this, Hakkai thought to himself as he lashed out at Goku's arm, grazing the side with the tips of his fingers, quelling another pulse of fury - he had learnt to be wary of losing his temper even a little over the last two months. Not the bright and joyous child he'd known, not the stubborn and compassionate man fighting him now. He didn't deserve it, he'd done nothing to deserve it, Hakkai knew that as surely as he knew how to dodge Goku's fist as it drove towards his stomach, block the next kick, slip in the gap in his defense and hit him with the heel of his palm. He shouldn't have to fight this, he shouldn't have to be on this journey,  _shouldn't_ -

Hakkai's breath stilled as he froze. Goku was staring up at him - from the ground, when had he ended up on the ground? - and there was the sharp sweet scent of fear tickling at the edge of his nose, and fear lurking in Goku's wide, wide eyes, and a thin trickle of blood from his throat where Hakkai's fingers -  _crooked like claws_ \- had dug in. The urge to lean down and lick that blood, warm fresh red iron-tasting  _blood_ , took him so strongly he trembled with the effort of not moving, his hand tightening instinctively before he consciously relaxed his fingers. He couldn't pull them away entirely, though. Not now. He knew his teeth xwere bared, that he had a ghost of a snarl - or maybe a smile? - on his face, but he couldn't let go.

The change in Goku was as swift as the flicking of a switch. He made a tiny sound deep in his throat, and his hands rose from his sides to grip Hakkai's forearms, both the one pinning his shoulder and the one curled around his neck, tugging him closer. His eyes slid shut, but even without that telltale indicator, Hakkai could feel it - the flare of chi that was Goku and yet not-Goku, something he'd already felt thrice and learnt very well to fear. It curled around him, tingling against his skin and pervading his mind when he inhaled involuntarily, overwhelming and addictive, murderous intent so fierce it made his body jolt as if it had been struck, and he licked his lips, half expecting to taste it there, so strong in his nose it was. He was painfully aroused, his hand already poised to rip through clothing, to caress tanned flesh and he wanted to run his tongue down that smooth throat, lick up that sweet, sweet blood, taste his arousal, his sweat, his fear, his bloodlust, his glorious killing rage, he _wanted_ so badly, and so did...

Goku.

 

He moved away so fast he barely knew it himself, was only aware of suddenly being on his feet instead of crouched over him. Goku's eyes were still closed and he whined softly as if he missed Hakkai's weight on him - except it wasn't Goku, he knew that, Goku would never -

The roiling chi that was building up around him - Seiten Taisei's aura - dissipated and collapsed into itself, sucked back into his shuddering body as if he'd breathed it in somehow. It was the most eerie thing Hakkai had seen, a physical representation of a battle being fought in his body as he watched. The only thing that didn't change was the fact that he was still hard.

Golden eyes - human golden eyes - opened slowly, and then widened in horror when they fixed on his.

Hakkai fled.

 

He had no idea what to say when Goku walked back into the camp half an hour after he did. The scent of what he had been doing still clung to him, even if it was faint - he must have washed, but it was inadequate, and Hakkai turned away, almost burying his face in the medicinal cream he used for insect bites, which he'd been examining for signs of mold. The strong scent masked anything else in the vicinity and he inhaled it gratefully. He had absolutely no desire to smell anything demon - or human - right now.

The akwardness lasted almost to second watch, which Goku had drawn - Hakkai had had first, and he padded reluctantly over to shake him awake. By the time he dragged his eyes open Hakkai was already in his sleeping bag and pretending to sleep. Still, he heard Goku step closer a few minutes later, and sighed.

'Hakkai,' Goku whispered. 'Hey. Hakkai. You awake?'

He sighed again. 'Yes, I am.' He opened his eyes, even though Goku was behind him. 'I...'

'It's cool,' Goku said in a rush. 'I mean, I know it wasn't you and it wasn't really me and I'm really sorry, so, so...I'm sorry!'

Hakkai closed his eyes. Goku asking  _him_ forgiveness? Ridiculous. He was the one at fault. But he was too cowardly to ask it in turn - he couldn't dare apologise for this - how could he? 'It's all right,' he said softly. 'Go on and keep watch.'

He could feel Goku standing there, watching him for a minute or so before he turned and left; the skin on his back tingled much, much longer than that.

 

 

 

You could have this,  _ _it whispered again, coiling around his mind as softly as silk, murmuring of desire and need and the freedom of being truly himself. _It's such a simple thing_. It spoke in his voice, but he could hear its alien cadence; he had never yearned for this. Not before three days ago, at any rate._._ Hakkai's eyes snapped open - when had they closed? - and he looked down involuntarily. Goku's eyes were still closed, his lips parted as he panted, his head rolled back, his body squirming against Hakkai's hips. The blood that had been dripping down his throat was almost gone, the heretic's healing power had sealed the wound, but the remnants were drying on his claws - hands? - and he could taste blood in his mouth, too immediate and sharp for it to just be transferred scent. And it wasn't his own.

 

_The hands that raked down his back were tipped with claws, and they traced fire and left blood in their wake. The body under his was writhing in pleasure, his head thrown back, hips grinding up against Hakkai's as he lay sprawled over him. He arched up as those hands clawed down his spine, shuddering in pain and pleasure, rocking desperately into him as they dragged down his flanks to his thighs, the slide of fever-hot palms, fingers caressing, talons trailing in their wake across sensitised skin. His own hands dug into muscled shoulders, leaving thin bloody marks on suntanned skin, and he fell forward to taste it, sniffing at the blood, licking it, rubbing his cock on a flat stomach, nipping at a strong neck, the jaw, the lips. Tracing the tips of those wicked fangs with his tongue, the sharp hiss as he cut himself on one, and then the lash of another's tongue against his, a pleased shudder echoing through both of them as they savoured the taste of life, of death._

_The heretic blinked up at him like a cat as he withdrew one hand from Hakkai's back, drawing his bloodstained fingers across his lips, tongue flicking out to lap at it. He dropped his head to kiss him with his hand still caught between them. It was more intimate than he had expected - he had never truly tasted blood in this form, and never blood which sang with power, with life, in the way Seiten Taisei's did; it dizzied him and fed the fury in him at once, clarity and insanity building together._

_Let go._

_And he did, and they were moving together, rolling, the ground pressing into his back now, his wrists caged in one small but infinitely powerful hand; he could feel skin everywhere, and it disoriented him for a moment before he realised his vines had spread involuntarily, winding around ankles, wrists, marking and caressing, binding them tight. He spread his legs further, still moving, a clawed hand stroking him as the Seiten Taisei purred, nuzzling and biting down his throat as Hakkai tilted his head back, accommodating him; tore his hands free of their prison and touched him in turn, a sound like a snarl escaping him when the hand stroking him tightened in response, speeding up, so close, he was, so close, so close...._

_You could have this_

 

The Wave.

 

He snapped upright, clutching at his temples. His blood was roaring in his ears, he was sweating, and he knew without looking that he was still very aroused. Goku was, luckily, already in his sleeping bag; he could hear what Gojyo fondly called the monkey-snore rising out of its depths.

Hakkai drew in a deep shuddering breath, covering his face with his hands, trying to sort through the chaos in his mind.

The morning was jarring in how normal it was. Hakkai moved on autopilot, trying hard not to look at Goku or reveal his thoughts - from the fact that all the three were staring oddly at him, he knew he was failing. The awkwardness lasted until they were in the jeep and heading towards the castle - they could see the mountains Houtou was said to lie within ahead of them now. Then, it was easy to drift off into the routine of driving, squabbling and cursing. They were used to not talking about things, after all; if there was one thing he could rely on, it was his companions' tact.

 

One day later, they finally made it past the boundary.

It felt like being doused in cold water; the jeep nearly overturned, careening dangerously close to the edge of the narrow path - it couldn't even be called a road - they were on as Hakkai wrenched the steering wheel in his surprise. They screeched to a halt a few feet away from a hairpin curve, and Hakkai wrapped his arms around himself, shivering as the icy feeling soaked into his mind and his body. He could hear Goku's hissing inhale of surprise behind him, and he started when Gojyo put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'Hey. You all right?'

'Fine,' Hakkai said shakily. He could feel his youkai power still, but it curled closer to him, less like an alien entity that was scrabbling at his mind and more like...a part of him. He stared down at his hands in wonder, feeling a year and a half's worth of tension slowly dissipate. Was this what it felt like when the youkai said they were reborn? He wasn't sure. But the vague impulse to lean over and take a bite out of Sanzo had disappeared, and that, at least, was reassuring. 'Ah. Yes. I'm quite fine, thank you.' He managed to muster up a smile. 'And...and you?'

Gojyo grinned at him. 'I'm good.'

'Goku.' As always, Sanzo's had the voice to cut through anything. Gojyo and Hakkai both stopped, looking at the monk. His face was tight with worry, and one hand jerked as if it was going to reach out for him.

'Yeah,' Goku said from the back, quietly. 'I'm - I'm okay.'

Hakkai smiled, and it was almost sincere now. 'Well, that's good,' he said mildly.

'We've got to be close, now,' Gojyo said, leaning back in the seat.

'We won't get any closer if we keep sitting here,' Sanzo snapped. 'Drive, Hakkai.' The relief in his voice was barely concealed, but they knew better than to mention it.

'True,' Hakkai said, and put the car in gear.

He met Goku's eyes in the rear-view mirror - wide, clear and open - and nodded quietly as they set off again.

It seemed, once again, there was nothing to say.

 

 

 


End file.
